


Ripped in Half

by lesbianriddler



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: M/M, suicide attempt cw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 14:12:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10113314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianriddler/pseuds/lesbianriddler
Summary: He had been happy once.





	

**Author's Note:**

> so i wrote this three nights ago, when i was really tired and the only thing on my mind was harvey dent (this happens sometimes when i’m in a bad mood). but i actually think it’s decent enough so i decided to post it. it was supposed to have part two, but then i forgot what i wanted to write about.
> 
> (i'm still getting used to writing in english, which is not my first language. so i apologize for any mistakes)

****Harvey Dent hated his life. He hated waking up in the morning, he hated getting up from the bed, he hated going to the bathroom and looking in the mirror. He hated going to work and listening to those morons that were working for him. He hated coming up with all those schemes that were always inevitably stopped by Batman. He hated Batman too, and everybody associated with him. He hated all of the Robins and Batgirls, he hated commissioner Gordon, he hated Bruce Wayne.

But most of all, he hated himself.

He hated that his mind didn’t belong to him, but to this other guy, the other Harvey. That other Harvey… he loved his life.

He loved being a criminal and a murderer. He loved stealing money and hurting people. He loved hearing himself talk, he loved antagonizing Batman and spitting in his face. He loved what he was. He also loved talking to Harvey, trying to convince him that his way was better, that his way was just. _This is the life, Harvey_ , he was saying day after day, watching Gotham, a city Harvey once loved, now  hated, dissolve into chaos. He loved chaos.

Sometimes Harvey would wake up and the other Harvey wasn’t there. His mind was clear, there was no sinister voice telling him to take all the hate he had and turn it into rage. Those days he usually spent in his bed, fearing that every wrong move could summon him again. The first time a day like that happened, he actually reached for a gun and tried to shot himself, but just as he was about to pull the trigger, his other half appeared and started laughing at him, calling him weak and pathetic.

_There so much we have yet to achieve, Harvey,_ he said, _we need to rid this city of all evil, remember? Isn’t that what you want?_

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn’t supposed to spend the rest of his life with a madman living in his own head. He had once had a wife and a best friend. _But they had left you, hadn’t they?_ _Left you with me._

Nobody knew what happened with Gilda. No one had seen her since she had disappeared all those years ago. She was probably dead and if she wasn’t, she probably didn’t love him anymore. He tried to hate her too, but he couldn’t. She no longer existed.

And then there was Bruce.

_You hate Bruce Wayne, don’t you, Harvey? He betrayed you, they all did, and he should pay for it._

He did hate Bruce.

He also loved Bruce.

Bruce was the most prevalent presence in his memories. When he looked back, at the happiest moments of his life, when he was young and careless, Bruce was always there. They were happy once, they understood each other well, they both had rage in their hearts, but wanted to channel it into something productive. They both swore they would fix Gotham together and make it safe. From crooks who killed innocent people in the alleyways. From parents who hurt their children and got away with it. From corruption, from destruction, from bureaucratic nonsense.

And then Bruce had left.

And then he had come back.

And then he had betrayed him.

_We should just kill him_ , suggested the other part of his brain, but it was the one thing Harvey still had the strength to stop. He hated Bruce, but he would die before he let anyone harm him. Especially himself.

He didn’t think there was a happy ending for him. He hoped he would die as that seemed to be the only way out. He didn’t allow himself to dream, to think about holding Bruce once again, about kissing him one last time. He wished he could stop loving him, he wished he could truly hate him with all of his being, because loving him made his life even more painful than it already was. Hating him would be easier.

_Killing him would solve all your problems._

He set his mind (minds) to other things. He came up with new schemes, new heists, and he hated it, but it was the only thing he knew how to do anymore. The only thing his other half allowed him to do.

When Batman would stop him, he would look at him with pity. He hated that. He didn’t want his pity, not when he had been the one who turned his back on him and refused to believe he wasn’t responsible for the killings of Falcone’s man. Not when he was the one who ruined his image as a respected district attorney, by making him look untrustworthy for associating with vigilantes. Batman was the one who ruined his life and he hated him for it.

_Killing Batman, wouldn’t that be glorious?_ asked the other Harvey, and for once he wholeheartedly agreed.

While he was in Arkham, Bruce would sometimes come to visit him. Harvey didn’t like his visits, mostly because he rarely got a chance to talk to him. The only thing he could do was stare at the man and hear things coming from his own mouth, he had no control over. He hated that.

‘Hello, Harv,’ said Bruce during one of those visits.

‘I’m afraid Harvey isn’t home,’ answered his other half. Harvey wanted to scream, this wasn’t true, but he couldn’t.

‘Don’t worry, Harvey, I know you're in there,’ replied Bruce.

‘Why are you even here, pretty boy? We hate you, you know that.’

‘I found something today. Actually, it was Alfred who found it,’ Bruce smiled slightly. ‘I thought you might want that,’ and then he reached out and slipped a piece of paper under the window. Harvey looked at it. It was an old photograph, of them as children, playing in Bruce’s garden. He looked up, into Bruce’s eyes.

‘Bruce…’ he said and only after few seconds, after Bruce smiled widely, he had realized that he did actually say it.

‘Hi, Harv, how are you?’

‘I’m… I’m tired.’

‘I know,’ Bruce said and he sounded sad, despite his smile.

Harvey wanted to say something more, but the control was taken away from him once again.

‘Oh, sorry, it seems Harvey got a little out of control.’ Harvey could feel his mouth forming a grin. ‘You can’t help him, Wayne, he is mine, and always will be.’

He watched in horror as his hands ripped the photograph in half. He glanced at Bruce. He didn’t look mad, he just looked sad.

There was also one second during which he seemed… old. When the smile had faltered down and the new expression haven’t yet taken its place, Harvey noticed that Bruce looked really tired, as if life was taking its toll on him too, as if he also wanted for it to end. He didn’t like that thought.

His other half didn’t like that either. He reached for his coin and tossed it, and it landed the scared side up, so he got up.

‘It seems the visit is over,’ he said and then left. He could feel Bruce’s eyes on him but he didn’t look back. He couldn’t.

He had somehow managed to slip the ripped photograph into his pants and sometimes, when the other Harvey was not there, he would look at it. There was no happy ending for him, but at least he had been happy once. Maybe that was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> crossposted on tumblr @boosterbuddy


End file.
